


Reassurance

by DaltonG



Series: Orion Bound [1]
Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Angst, Dom/sub Play, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Painplay, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Subspace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-29
Updated: 2013-05-08
Packaged: 2017-12-09 21:56:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/778413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaltonG/pseuds/DaltonG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil is in London. Clint is in crisis. Tony and Steve are there to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> No beta. Now Part 1 of "Orion Bound".

Steve knelt on the mattress next to Clint, tying a black silk blindfold around his head with gentleness. Despite his sure touch, Clint's breathing sped up. 

Steve looked worriedly at Tony. 

"Breathe easy, little archer," Tony said, laying his hand firmly on Clint's bare shin. "Remember, Phil is watching every minute of this. We're playing by his rules; he instructed me very thoroughly." 

This didn't seem to do anything to ease the tension evident in all of Clint's muscles and in his soft cock, lying quiescently against his thigh. Steve bit his lower lip, and Tony reached over to ruffle his lover's hair. 

"Both of you calm down. I know exactly what I'm doing and we're all going to have a really, really good time." Tony's tone was lascivious but his smile to Steve was gentle and reassuring. 

Clint's wrists were already bound with leather lined with fur; the cuffs had D-rings that were latched into those built into Tony's massive oak headboard. Other than the cuffs and the blindfold, though, Clint was naked; extensive restraint wasn't part of his and Phil's scenes. 

Tony knew he needed to get the two subs past the raging case of nerves. 

"Steve, doesn't Clint have a pretty cock?" Tony asked. 

Clint's cock jumped a little in response. 

Steve hummed in agreement. 

"Don't you just want to taste it?" 

Steve licked his lips without realizing it. "Yeah, I do," he said in a low, soft voice. 

"Why don't you go ahead and do that, then. But just lick it for now. No sucking," Tony ordered. 

Clint whimpered and his cock filled out a little more. Steve bent down and applied his wide, warm tongue with a long lick from the base upward and then started flicking the glans with just the tip of his tongue. Clint's cock stiffened until it was lifting a little from his leg. 

"Oh god," Clint murmured. 

"Now now, you know the rules," Tony said as he knee-walked to the head of the bed and laid his finger against Clint's lips. "No words or else I'll have to gag you. And I don't want to gag you; I want to be able to hear your pretty sounds. Can you be good for me and not say any words?" 

Clint nodded. Phil had learned early on that the burden of speaking was part of what Clint needed to lay down in order to enter subspace. 

"Good boy. Oh, I can tell you are going to be so good for Steve and me, aren't you? You're going to just lie there and take whatever we want to give to you. And we want to give a lot to--hey, no SUCKING, I said no sucking Steve, didn't I?" Steve looked up guiltily with Clint's fully hard cock between his wet, red lips. 

"Drop it!" Tony ordered. Steve immediately opened his mouth and Clint's cock fell out, slick with spit. Clint whimpered again. 

"If you're going to forget how to obey me this early on, you know what happens next," Tony scolded. Steve nodded miserably. Tony slid off the bed, walked to the other side, and strapped a little leather cockring around Steve's cock and balls, snapping it shut by pressing against Steve's turgid flesh, which he knew hurt but not too much. 

"I'll be good, Tony," Steve pleaded. 

"You bet you will, no cumming for you for a while, naughty thing." Steve's whimper echoed that of Clint moments ago. 

\--- 

Phil was in London. Phil did not want to be in London. Phil was, in fact, quite angry that he was in London. He was handling Natasha on a relatively easy job, but while he was gone, Clint had been called out with the Avengers and the mission had gone badly. An agent had been lost and Clint blamed himself. Tony and Steve had tried to explain to him that there was nothing any of them could have done; they showed him footage from multiple cameras, both S.H.I.E.L.D. and NYC, which proved that he was much too far away to have saved the agent, but Clint was especially bad at dealing with losses after the Loki mind-capture incident and after almost losing Phil. The three months that Phil had been declared dead--Fury nearly lost the team by keeping them in the dark--had nearly killed Clint and it was all too fresh. 

When Phil called for his nightly phone call with Clint and heard his voice, he ordered Clint to go find Tony immediately and hand him the phone. Which Clint did without thinking; thank goodness for their years of D/s training. Phil explained to Tony that Clint was in a bad way and that he needed Tony's help, and he went on to spend an hour filling Tony in on what exactly needed to be done to keep Clint sane. Tony took it very seriously and thanked Phil at the end of the call for trusting him. 

"I trust you as far as I can throw Captain America, which is maybe a few inches. You're going to have cameras set up in the room and will be broadcasting the procedings to me the entire time." 

Tony grinned. "Fair enough, Agent. I don't suppose you'll get any enjoyment out of watching yourself, now, will you." 

"Not until you have him out of the woods I won't," Phil replied, and Tony sobered up. 

"Don't worry, Phil. I understand what needs to be done and while I'm sure Cap and I will have a good time, this is about Clint." And Tony meant it...until he put the cuffs on Clint and realized just how bad Clint was doing, and then he vowed to himself to do everything he could to ease Clint's pain. 

\--- 

Tony rubbed his slippery forefinger gently around the outside of Clint's anus while Steve chewed on Clint's left nipple. Clint was beginning to sigh a little but the muscles on his legs, stomach and arms still bulged with tension. Tony picked up a small leather slapper and lightly tapped Clint's right nipple. Clint yelped far out of proportion to the pain, simply because it was the first pain and was completely unexpected with the blindfold on. Tony chuckled softly and tapped him again, multiple times, in the same place with a very faintly increasing pressure. Clint began breathing a little more deeply. 

"Tony, I want to worship his balls," Steve asked politely. 

"Go ahead dear heart," Tony agreed, and began alternating the slapper on each nipple, the left one wet and more sensitive and peaked due to Steve's work. As Steve leaned down to lave Clint's hairless sac, Tony eased his finger into Clint's warmth. 

"Dear god, so tight," Tony breathed. Then he pulled out. 

"No," whined Clint. 

"Oh, that's it. I warned you." Tony sounded triumphant and authoritative but he was actually very glad that Clint had held out as long as he had. He'd kept an eye on the clock (actually his Bulgari watch) and it was just about the right time to gag Clint per Phil's instructions. He moved back to the head of the bed. 

"Open." 

Clint clamped his lips shut. 

"Jesus Christ, Clint. Phil is watching you. Open your fucking mouth." 

At the reminder that Phil was watching from his hotel room in London, Clint gasped inadvertently and Tony pressed a short cock gag into his mouth, carefully avoiding his teeth, and then buckled it roughly around his head, yanking his hair at the end for good measure. 

"There, that'll shut you up. What a pushy sub." If Clint could have protested, he would have; instead, his dick did it for him by wilting a little at the insult. Steve noticed and quietly wrapped his huge, warm palm around the shaft, pumping lightly in place instead of stroking, a gesture of sub-solidarity. He doubled his efforts to pull both of Clint's balls into his mouth at once, opening his jaw wide to accommodate the larger-than-usual organs. 

Tony, for his part, gave Clint a soft kiss on the forehead as he tugged his hair a few more times, tugging for sensation instead of yanking for the pain. He knew he needed to build the layers of pain slowly, keeping them just this side of pleasure, because Clint needed the pain tonight, but knowing that eventually they would blur into sensation and pleasure when he was deeper into subspace and more able to accept it. 

"Now that we've got some peace, I think we can attach these." Tony pulled up Clint's right nipple--Clint breathed sharply through his nose in anticipation--and placed a reasonably nasty alligator clip around the tenderized flesh, making sure that it wasn't particularly tight at this stage. 

"Oh, now that's pretty. Isn't that pretty, Steve?" Tony flicked the reddened nub that stuck out from the metal with his finger. Steve rolled his eyes up to look without stopping his sucking and made a sound that was probably one of appreciation but mostly just sounded like humming with his mouth full. 

"I think one just isn't enough, though, don't you, Clint?" When Clint didn't respond, Tony tapped Clint's cheek very lightly. 

"Clint? You with us? You remember your bell?" Clint was holding a bell in one hand, in anticipation of the gag, to use as an alternate safeword. He nodded slightly, reluctantly. 

"Clint, give me your level, 1 is the start, 5 is down deep." Clint held up one finger. 

"Thought so. Let's help you down a little more." And Tony snapped the other clamp on with a little less care, eliciting a muffled yelp of pain. 

"Good boy, that's a good boy there, taking all that pain and pleasure at once." Tony stroked Clint's hair for a moment while snagging more lube out of the bedside table. 

"Now Clint, what you probably don't know is that Steve has to come at least five times a night to feel human." Steve glared at Tony as best he could with his mouth full of balls. "And you probably didn't see, but he's trapped in a cockring right now. It's really very sad for him, actually." As Tony was talking, he was very slowly pressing two fingers into Clint's ass. The clench was tight and he knew he needed to work on that situation before Steve's cock got anywhere near that tunnel; anal pain was not on Phil _or_ Tony's list of okay things for subs to experience. 

"Have you ever seen Steve's cock, Clint?" Tony didn't wait for an answer, rubbing his fully spread hand firmly on Clint's belly in a circle while he stroked gently inside his asshole, his fingers tight together. "It's REALLY big, Clint. I mean ridiculously big." 

Steve tried to glare harder. 

"I mean like those dildos in the display case, nobody on earth really has a cock that big, big. I don't think you're quite ready to take that sort of sledgehammer up this teensy little ass of yours. But Steve really needs to get off. What to do?" Tony pretended to think. Clint was breathing deeply to deal with the throbbing in his nipples and the warmth of Steve's mouth. Steve was mewling around Clint's balls because he really was ready to have the cockring off, thank you very much. 

"Oh! I've got it! Steve, see what you think of this. What if we took the gag out of Clint's mouth, and he promised to be REALLY GOOD and not talk, and we let him blow you? Would that work for you? You can take his balls out of your mouth now and give me an actual answer." Tony was amused at how hopeful Steve could look even with his jaw spread wide. 

"Yes, yes, I think that's an excellent idea. I think Clint can be good. Can't you, Clint? Please? Pretty please?" 

Even Fury was helpless in the face of Steve's mildest pleading, and Steve was pleading with all the impetus of an aching, dripping, ring-blocked cock. Clint nodded vigorously. 

"Well, okay, if you vouch for him, Steve, I GUESS we can try it." Tony reached behind Clint's head and unbuckled the gag, lifting it out with care around the teeth again. 

"Now come up here, Steve, and kneel over Clint, like this," Tony helped Steve climb up, "and just ease your cock on in here." 

"Tony?" Steve whimpered. 

"What, is there a problem? Look, look at Clint's beautiful mouth, wide open, ready for you, and he's being so good, he hasn't said a word! What more could you want?" 

When Steve was into subspace, Tony's amused, fake-shock voice just seemed completely straightforward and he whined. 

"Tony!" 

"OH, oh, I bet you want me to take that cockring off, don't you! Now, you could've taken that strap off yourself, couldn't you?" Tony gave Steve a sharp look. This scene was for Clint, but it couldn't hurt to make sure Steve was feeling good, too. 

"No, Tony, I couldn't." 

"Why not?" 

Poor Clint continued to hold his mouth open, at the ready. 

"Because you put it on me, Tony." 

"That's right. Good boy. What a good boy you are for me." And Tony unsnapped the strap and guided Steve's throbbing, dripping cock into Clint's wide-open mouth. 

~ to be continued ~ 


	2. Chapter 2

Clint and Phil were together as handler and agent for four years before Clint had the guts to kiss Phil. It happened late one afternoon after Clint had finished an informal debrief in Phil's office after a routine op which Phil had overseen and already knew inside-and-out. 

Phil had sighed. "I'll take care of the paperwork, Clint. You can stand down." He had been shuffling papers when Clint had walked to the side of the desk, leaned over, kissed Phil quickly--mostly missing and getting more cheek than lips--and then had run out of the office. 

Clint had found the first men's room and vomited in the furthest stall. He was fearless on the field but he'd been building up to that kiss for a very long time and was sure that Phil would have at least six reasons why they couldn't be together, some of them so humiliating that he would have to leave S.H.I.E.L.D. and would never see Phil again. 

Phil had stared at the door which Clint had slammed shut behind him. So Natasha was right. What the hell was he going to do about this? The only way he had held his feelings in was by being sure that Clint would never return them. Phil was not strong enough to hide his aching heart in the face of a possibility of having Clint, the one person he had ever wanted with this severity. 

Phil had gotten up and walked slowly to Clint's tiny S.H.I.E.L.D. apartment unit. Clint had answered the door with a miserable "I'm so sorry..." and any plans Phil had had for a long, intellectual discussion of their options disappeared and he had pulled Clint into a lung-crushing embrace, kissing him open-mouthed for a full minute. When he had pulled back and seen the relief on Clint's face, there was nothing else to be done but hash out the details. 

\--- 

"Oh god, Tony, his mouth is so hot...I can't hold back. Do I pull out?" Steve moaned. 

While Tony had been fully briefed on the scene and all of Clint's boundaries, he hadn't let Steve in on any of it, figuring that Steve would get more out of being led through the scene--and wouldn't have time to worry himself out of doing the scene at all. 

"No sweetheart, he prefers to swallow. Shoot everything you've got down that sarcastic throat of his," Tony instructed, and Clint didn't even have time to take a breath before Steve was squirting hot cum into Clint and groaning with each jerk of his cock. Clint swallowed as fast as he could, but Steve was copious with both his pre-ejaculate and his eventual cum, and at least half dribbled down Clint's chin. Tony laughed softly at the sight. 

Steve finally finished and gracefully rolled to sit beside Clint on the bed, panting. 

"It's sweet," Clint said softly, wonderingly. Tony decided not to punish him for that verbal infraction; Steve's taste still surprised him every time. He assumed it had something to do with the serum, or maybe with Steve's assiduous avoidance of all things dairy. 

"It is, isn't it," Tony said instead, using the side of his palm to scoop the mess off Clint's chin and licking it off his hand. Then he gave Clint a short but deep kiss for a job well done. 

Steve flopped back against the pillows. "What now, Tony?" 

"Now you recover for a minute and then we're gonna give ol' Clint here a little ride." Tony could see Clint's asshole contract with nerves; luckily that wasn't the kind of ride Tony meant. Not yet. 

"I want you to unhook Clint's wrists from the bed--" Clint whined at this, displaying yet more nerves, "--and give his arms a nice massage. I'll be right back." 

Steve set to unlatching the cuffs and then curled his larger body around Clint's, to warm him, and grasped one archer arm and began expertly rubbing the muscles with his long, intelligent fingers. Tony ducked out of the bedroom and pulled a Starkphone out of his jeans pocket. 

"It's a nice start, Stark, but you've got a ways to go. Do you see what a wreck he is?" Phil scolded without preamble. 

"Calm your jets, Phil, it's pretty fucking clear. It's going to take some time, and I've got nothing but time." Of course it wasn't true, there were at least three projects half-finished, down in the lab, that StarkTech engineering was eagerly awaiting, but Tony had his priorities straight. Pepper would just have to make excuses. Again. 

"Do you have any specific suggestions for the next layers of pain? The next set of activities is to get him off and loosen him up a little; then I want to make him hurt some more," Tony said. 

"How are you going to get him off? It's pretty early for that; he probably won't put up with it." 

"That's for me to know and you to watch, Philster. Trust me. This would work on a monk. Well no, that's a terrible example, a stiff breeze would work on a monk. This would work on the sluttiest slut there is. In other words, this would work wonders on me." 

Phil scoffed audibly. 

"Look, if it doesn't work, we'll move on to the next layer. Which should be?" Tony prompted. 

"Probably some flogging, ass and backs of thighs. Be careful to avoid balls until he's deeper under." 

"DUH. Jesus Phil, I do have a clue." 

"Can the touchiness, Stark, this is my boy we're talking about and you'll fucking listen to what I say or call it quits right now." 

"Sorry, Agent. You're the only one who gets to be touchy here, got it." Tony took a deep breath. "Seriously, don't worry. He's in good hands. And whether you believe it or not, you picked someone who really gives a shit about him. So just sit back, unzip, and enjoy. I'll check in later." Tony hung up before Phil could harangue him any more, slipped the phone back in his pocket, and re-entered the bedroom. He could see that Clint was slightly more relaxed from the massage than when the scene had started; small victories. It was hard for anyone to stay stressed under Steve's magic massaging fingers, anyway. 

"Okay, that's enough coddling, Steve. Time to put Clint through some paces." Tony moved to the side of the bed and held the gag back up to Clint's lips. 

"Open," he said quietly, and this time Clint opened without hesitation. Tony rebuckled the gag belt and then reached down to hook the cuffs together. 

"Didn't want all the blood to fall out of your arms, dear boy, but we don't want you having free reign either, do we." Clint sighed a little through his nose when his wrists were re-restrained, even that small bit of bondage an obvious relief. 

"Now, Steve?" Steve looked up at Tony eagerly. "Get down here at the foot of the bed. I want you to eat this boy out like he's made of candy floss." Tony had made sure to require Clint to take a thorough shower before he came to the scene; none of them were into scat. 

Steve crawled around until his tummy was at the foot of the bed, his legs propped on the floor, and pushed Clint's legs gently but firmly apart until they were as spread as they could be. Then he bent his head to his task. Steve's tongue was longer than most peoples'; had been even before the serum. He started by licking lightly at the entrance as Tony had taught him, flicking back and forth around the sensitive, taut pink flesh surrounding the anus as a tease and then back to press softly at the rosebud, back and forth, until Clint was whining and rocking his hips a little. 

Tony let Steve work on Clint until he could see--and hear--that the flesh was very wet and that Steve was starting to push inside. Clint's sounds were getting a bit louder, a bit more rhythmic. Tony sat on the side of the bed near Clint's hip and watched for a few more minutes so that when he suddenly bent down and engulfed Clint's cock deep in his mouth it was a complete surprise to Clint, whose hips rocketed up as he yelped around the gag. 

Clint had just a little precum, a more normal combination of bitter and salty, and Tony sucked it down like ambrosia. He wrapped his hand around the base of Clint's shaft and began to suck softly and rhythmically. Steve's tongue was pressing in deeper and deeper in a counter-tempo, and Clint's hips didn't know where to move when. Sweat began to bead on Clint's forehead; his hair started to look damp. He raised and lowered his bound wrists helplessly; his stomach clenched tightly. 

Tony lifted off Clint's cock; Clint whined loudly through his nose. 

"Oh, by the way, Clint? Any time you want to come, you just go ahead and do so. No need to ask my permission." Tony smirked at his little gag-related joke. By now he could see Steve's tongue was buried almost all the way in Clint, dragging slowly, wetly in and out of his anus. God bless Steve's salivary glands, Tony thought. Tony reached down to lick cruelly at Clint's cock and was rewarded with a groan. 

"Oh, what was that? Were you trying to tell me something, Clint? What, you want me to stop sucking on you?" 

Clint shook his head in the negative rather vigorously and Tony counted it a win; another step down into subspace, he was communicating willingly now. 

"No, no, you don't want me to stop sucking on you. But you want something. What could that be. Steve? Any ideas? Don't stop what you're doing, but if you could give me a hint..." Steve pointed rather urgently to Tony's mouth. Clint, who was not far gone enough to ignore or to be amused by Tony's fake-ignorance, was frowning as hard as someone blindfolded and gagged could frown. 

"My mouth? He wants my mouth...what, oh, you're pointing to his cock, he wants my mouth on...on his COCK, oh, well I guess that makes sense." Enough teasing; Tony eased back down and began sucking harder, and the break in the rhythm had worked; within moments Clint was cumming into Tony's heat and grunting with the effort. 

Tony sucked just until Clint stopped ejaculating, not wanting to play with oversensitivity, especially since he had plans to make Clint come at least one more time. He sucked up as much semen as he could when he pulled off and then grabbed a soft washcloth and dried the rest. 

"Okay, Steve, you can stop for now." Steve raised his head and let his tired tongue comically dangle from his mouth. 

"Oh, poor baby!" Tony leaned over and kissed Steve deeply, caressing Steve's tongue with his own, tasting Clint's soap-clean flavor. He stroked Steve's hair. 

"What a good boy, you did a great job," Tony said, and he pointed silently and obviously to Clint's now relaxed anus. Steve's eyes widened slightly in understanding. 

"Clint, honey, level of 1 to 5?" 

Clint held up 3 fingers of his right hand as best he could, his left clasped in a fist beneath it via the leather cuffs. 

"Good, we're getting there. Don't worry, we're not going to leave you hanging. So to speak," Tony said, stroking Clint's leg, taking a measure of the lessened but still-present tension there. 

~ to be continued ~ 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I'm vacillating wildly between the spelling options of "cum" and "come". Feel free to beta and you can have your pick of a standard.


	3. Chapter 3

~earlier that night~ 

"Yeah?" Clint answered his phone in a monotone. 

"Clint? Give the phone to Tony. Right now," Phil ordered. Clint got up from the couch, walked into the communal kitchen, and handed the phone to Tony without a word. He returned to the couch and sat facing forward, staring unseeing at the TV. Steve was sitting next to him, twitchy, agitated, trying not to stare at Clint. Every once in a while Steve would lift a hand as though to put it on Clint's arm, get a good look at Clint's face, and drop his hand back to his lap with a sigh of frustration. 

Clint was glad Phil was gone. He wasn't entirely sure what he was going to do, but whatever it was, it would need to happen when Phil wasn't around. There were too many deaths on his name now. He'd thought he'd been getting past the Loki incident with a lot of therapy, both the formal kind and Phil's special brand, but today's loss was one too many. If he wasn't limited to archery, of all archaic things. If he was faster. If he didn't depend on fucking Iron Man to be deposited in the right place like a helpless lump. If he could have aimed better. If he could have _been_ better. 

He wasn't necessarily considering suicide. He wasn't brave enough for that, he could admit that to himself. But he was clearly a liability for The Avengers and it was time to leave. Phil would never willingly let him go, so he would have to make his move before Phil got back. Phil would get over him; so would Natasha. No one else really cared. All Fury cared about was having a warm body in his employ; there were plenty of people far more qualified on the waiting list for S.H.I.E.L.D. agenthood. Tonight, when everyone--especially the ever-hovering Captain America--was asleep, he'd make his move. He had backup plans layered upon backup plans, made years ago and kept up just in case. No one would ever find him and he could live out his useless life in quiet, obscure poverty. 

He realized his head was aching from how hard he was clenching his jaw and he eased the tension. Couldn't be clear-headed enough to disappear when pain was a factor; he'd need all his stealth tonight. 

"Get in the shower, Clint. My bathroom. Now." Tony stood in front of him using a commanding voice Clint had never heard Tony use before. He shrugged and stood up, following Tony into the elevator and up to his penthouse apartment. He might as well be clean when he disappeared; god knew when he would have another hot shower. 

He would've used the ceiling in Tony's bathroom to escape, but Tony sat outside the shower on the sink vanity directing his activity. "Scrub your face. Now your shoulders. Now your chest." And so on and so on, like Clint had never taken a shower before. He stared unseeing ahead of himself into the steam and did everything Tony said to do without thinking. 

"Okay, dry off." He took a thick towel heated from Tony's electric towel rod and scrubbed at his damp body. As he rubbed his hair perfunctorily, he looked up to see Steve in the bathroom, too. 

"Gonna need your help with this, Steve," Tony said, and Clint watched each man wrap a cuff around one of his wrists. Even so, his gaze remained distant, and he simply followed as they pulled him, wrists first, into the bedroom. Steve lifted him onto the bed. It wasn't until he felt his arms spread and registered the cuffs being attached to the headboard that he finally reacted. 

"Oh HELL no. Fuck you, Stark. No fucking way." 

Tony held a phone up to Clint's ear. 

"Clint? You will do everything Tony tells you to do, without question. You are under his command now. I am watching everything that happens and I will make sure that you stay safe. Do not. Fucking. Disobey me." From years of training, Phil's voice was enough to command acquiescence, if not willingness. Clint's jaw clenched tight again and his expression went blank. Okay, fine. He would endure this and still have plenty of time to vanish before Phil got home. 

It was harder to ignore them once the blindfold was on and Steve's hot mouth was around his cock. His traitorous dick reacted as though he wasn't in the deepest emotional crisis of his life, as though this were just a sexy little scene with friends. 

He could resist Tony playing with his ass. He could even resist Steve eating his balls with a thoroughness no one else had been able to achieve. It was the gentle touches that Tony kept bestowing that were agony. He didn't deserve gentleness. It was obscene; he should only be punished for what had happened today. 

When Steve shot a load and a half down Clint's throat, he swallowed automatically. But then Steve uncuffed Clint from the bed and panic rose up in him. They expected him to stay here voluntarily? He felt Steve's hot skin surround and cuddle him and he reinforced his mental walls, breathing deeply. He'd been in worse situations on assignments, sexual situations where he had to pretend to want to be where he was. He could do this. Even if Steve's fingers were pressing into all the aching knots in his too-tense arms and forcing the muscles to relax. 

And then Steve was giving Clint the rimming of his life, and Tony was blowing him expertly, and again, no matter what his mental will might be, his body took over and he came in spite of himself. 

It felt really good. 

Which just made everything worse. 

\--- 

Phil watched Tony with, well, a hawk's eye. He knew the razor edge Clint's sanity had been teetering upon, and when Captain America texted him the summary of the day's mishap, Phil knew Clint was in danger. Even if he took the Quinjet home--which Fury never would have authorized during an active mission--he wouldn't have gotten back fast enough to keep Clint from doing something stupid. So Phil realized he had to put his trust in the one team member he could least rely upon--Tony. 

While the public knew of Tony as an unrepetant slut, Phil knew what Pepper, Steve, and a handful of other people were privileged to know--that Tony was an extremely skilled Dom. He and Tony had even talked shop a few times about where to get the best equipment and what techniques worked well with their respective subs. 

When Phil heard Clint's emotionless voice on the phone--when Clint _knew_ he was talking to Phil--he realized it was worse than he had imagined, and now it was up to Tony. 

Phil was far from turned on, even though the vision of a naked Captain America doing naked sexy things to his sub would normally have left him in a puddle of helpless lust. Instead he was still fully clothed--having only conceded to loosening his tie--and was sitting at the hotel room table in front of his secure StarkTech laptop, watching the procedings via several of JARVIS' cameras, a bundle of nerves. Natasha had been given the bare outline of events and had quietly left the room for parts unknown. Phil kept realizing that he was holding his breath and that his fists were clenched so tight his knuckles were white, and he would force himself to flex his hands and take a deep breath only to fall back into the same rigor. 

The orgasm was too soon. Clint would never accept pleasure without being much further in subspace. Tony wasn't paying attention and he was going to fuck this up and Phil was going to lose Clint for good. Phil realized that he'd bitten his lip so hard when Tony hung up on him that he'd drawn blood. If only he could be there! 

\--- 

"Okay, let's get those clamps off before your nipples turn blue. Oh, they're already purple, aren't they? Hm, you'll have to trust me on that one, Clinty. Steve, take the first one off." 

Steve put a warm palm on the center of Clint's chest, to steady him, and carefully opened the clamp jaws on one nipple, knowing that even if he was gentle it wouldn't help. 

Clint screamed into the gag. 

"Now suck, Steve, suck good, lick him and warm that flesh up. Let him feel it, that's it." 

Steve bent down and did just that, alternating between sucking softly and pressing his tongue flat against the abused flesh. When Tony did that for him it always helped ease the pain back from a sharp agony to a more satisfying, dull ache. 

Tony carded his fingers through Steve's hair. Steve was a natural at this. Tony had taken a chance, knowing that it was killing Steve not to be able to help Clint out of the scary place he seemed to have gone in his head. Tony was actually hoping to heal all four of them if this went well. 

"Okay, good, that's very good...now it's time for the other one," Tony instruted. 

Clint drew in a breath and held it. Tony reached up and slapped Clint's cheek oh-so-lightly. 

"Now now, you know better than to hold your breath against pain. Breathe..." Tony waited for Clint to take a breath. "...breathe...breathe...NOW." Steve jerked off the clamp a little harder than he meant to and Clint's face contorted so that the blindfold slipped a bit. Tony calmly adjusted it and pressed Steve's face to the other cold, tortured nipple and Steve laved it without being asked. Now Clint was breathing deeply, almost too deeply. 

"Clint. CLINT. Listen to me. You are hyperventilating. I need you to slow down. Breathe with me." Tony pressed Clint's crossed wrists against his chest above the arc reactor. "Feel me breathe. In...out...in....out." Tony did this for a few minutes, holding Clint against himself, keeping his free hand on Clint's chest, until Clint's breathing evened out again. 

"Good boy. You are such a good boy for me." 

(On the other side of the world, Phil winced. Too soon, Tony, he thought frantically. Too soon.) 

~ to be continued ~ 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catharsis.

Tony unbuckled the gag belt from behind Clint's head and carefully removed the blunted silicone cock gag. Steve saw the panic in Clint's eyes and raised an eyebrow at Tony, who shot him his best "I know what I'm doing, trust me" look. 

Tony wrapped his strong fingers around Clint's jaw and turned him so that he had to look into Tony's eyes. 

"Clint? I don't like how erratic your breathing is getting. No more gag for you but you are under orders to stay silent unless you need your safeword. Hand me the bell." 

Tony put his hand under Clint's clenched left fist where his non-verbal safeword element had left imprints it was clutched so tight. Tony gently unbent each finger until the bell fell into his hand and he set it aside. 

"Tell me your safeword, Clint." 

Clint's first attempt to speak was just a croak. He cleared his throat and said roughly, "Coulson." 

Immediately Steve held up a bottle of cool water to Clint's lips and helped him drink it all. Steve tenderly brushed Clint's wet hair back from his forehead as he drank. 

"Okay, we've got a little maneuvering to do next. Steve, lie down where Clint is; Clint, we're going to turn you over so you're lying down on Steve." Tony helped Steve manhandle Clint into position so that his cheek was against Steve's wide, firm, hairless chest, Steve's hands resting on Clint's back. 

"Draw your knees up, Steve. This bit isn't for you." 

Steve pulled his legs up until his feet were flat on the bed on either side of Clint, who had his hands lying loosely on Steve's shoulders. Clint's breathing was shallow and Steve stroked his hands firmly up and down Clint's back, trying to get him to relax a little. 

Tony countered that by thwacking his multi-tail flogger very loudly in the air behind the bed. It took no small amount of skill to make such a thick instrument make such a loud crack. 

"Okay, Clint," Tony said softly, "let's really take you down now." And he began to swat Clint's ass with the flogger, slowly at first, almost softly, stroking it across each cheek in turn with a sure wrist flick as though he was brushing house paint on a wall. It was so soft, in fact, that Clint grumbled against Steve's chest, disgusted. Steve grinned, knowing what was coming. 

Tony worked out daily to be sure he could handle the Iron Man suit. While his arm muscles weren't as showy or obvious as Clint's, they were quite adequate to the task of his nearly nightly scenes. The strokes across Clint's asscheeks gradually deepened in force, beginning to thud hard enough for Clint's taut muscles to visually dimple at the hits. Without realizing it, Clint began to hum low in his chest. 

Then without breaking rhythm Tony swapped the flogger for a thin flexible cane he'd been holding in his other hand and a sharp hot line of pain seared itself across Clint's asscheeks, going deep and leaving an immediate welt. Clint cried out at the unexpected change even as Tony thudded the flogger back and forth again, still in rhythm. 

Clint looked up at Steve, tears in his eyes. Steve just stroked Clint's hair, very aware that Clint was not safewording. 

Clint had almost relaxed back into the soothing, satisfying rhythm of the flogger, whose hits were now requiring Tony to breathe hard, the scent of his sweat filling the room, when the cane came back into play, laying a stripe across the very tender juncture of buttocks and thighs. Clint screamed and bit down on Steve's chest, which caused Steve to grunt in turn. 

Tony kept this up for a good half hour, alternating until Clint had 5 distinct thin red welts across his asscheeks under the bright red of the solid flogging. Tony finally threw down both tools to the floor, adjusted his erect cock in his jeans, and picked up a small leather paddle. 

"Clint, this is going to hurt. A lot. Get ready." 

Steve tightened his hold on Clint's upper arms. 

Tony took the paddle and tapped five times on Clint's soft, defenseless balls lying against the mattress between his legs. He was deliberately light, knowing from Phil that it took very little to deliver real pain to Clint's scrotum. The taps were meant to be a final sensation, not terribly painful, after the deep flogging and caning. But they did the trick. Suddenly Clint was sobbing on Steve's chest, snot running out both nostrils, drool falling from his lips. It sounded as though he was sobbing from the bottom of his soul. 

Tony ripped off his jeans and climbed onto the bed, turning Clint onto his side so that he was pressed tightly between Steve in front and Tony behind. Tony and Steve stroked Clint's skin wherever they could reach as Clint clutched Steve so tightly that he left fingernail prints in his back. 

"So good, you're so good Clint, you were so brave. We love you so much. You were so good today and we love you, we need you," Tony was murmuring in his ear. Somehow this managed to make Clint sob harder. 

Eventually the storm petered out. Tony gave himself sainthood points for ignoring the feel of Clint's heated assflesh pressed against his aching cock. Steve fed Clint another bottle of water and a protein bar. 

When Clint finally relaxed and had caught his breath, it was time to tell them. 

"Thank you, thank you both. I really needed that. I'm going to miss both of you." 

"Excuse me?" Tony growled. 

"I've got to go, I've got to leave before Phil gets here. You'll be fine without me. Just give me a minute to catch my breath, okay?" 

"What the fuck are you talking about, Clint?" Steve said. It was always so effective when he dropped in the rare swearword. 

"I have to go." Clint looked up at Steve without artifice, completely calm now that he'd had his catharsis. "I'm no good for The Avengers. It's time to leave." 

"What about Phil?" Steve asked. 

"Phil will get over it. He'll find someone better." 

Clint felt a cuff being reapplied to his wrist. 

"Cute, Tony, but that's not going to keep me here." 

"It is if you're locked to me." Clint looked down to see that Tony had padlocked the D-ring to a cuff on his own wrist; the bedside table drawer was open. 

Clint gave Tony a scathing look. "Like I can't get out of that." 

"Maybe not, but you can't get out of both of these." Steve had followed Tony's lead and now Clint's other wrist was padlocked to a cuff on Steve's wrist. 

"Not funny, guys. This isn't going to solve anything." Clint tried to reach with his right hand to unhook his left wrist cuff and Steve easily held Clint's wrist at his side. Clint grunted and tried dragging his Tony-cuffed hand the other way; Tony was tired, but not that tired, and Steve easily moved his own Clint-wrist further away. 

"What, you're going to keep me cuffed for the rest of my life? Yeah, that's a sustainable plan." 

"No, they're going to keep you cuffed until I get back there," Phil said, suddenly visible on a giant screen in front of Tony's bed, his face dark with anger. "The Quinjet is warming up right now, Natasha's flying it, and we'll be there in eight hours, so you are going to figure out how to piss with no hands until I get there and really show you pain." 

Clint's jaw was actually open with shock. He had completely forgotten that Phil was watching. 

"Clinton Francis Barton. The ceremony we performed four years ago was for life and beyond. You are a complete fuckhead if you think you're getting away from me this easily. You will stay put, I will come get you, and you will re-learn just how much you belong to my ass." The connection was cut. 

Clint had a foolish grin on his face. 

"Tony, how are _we_ going to pee like this?" Steve asked plaintively. 

"Very, very carefully." 

~ the end ~ 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor cock-blocked Tony! He was meant to get some but sometimes the Dom has to be the adult. This is my first Avengers fic (and one of my first ever fics) so comments are sooooo welcome.


End file.
